


Small Things

by constellationqueen



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Everything is soft, I haven't decided, M/M, and answering some questions i had about the credit pictures, filling in the blanks, idk it's just cute and soft, might get nsfw later?????, not angst, this is just...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 06:41:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8654713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constellationqueen/pseuds/constellationqueen
Summary: This is a compilation of small moments that we don't get to see in the show. Moments such as those shown to us during the credit roll, and some additional moments that I'm making up on the fly. There is no beta for this, so if you see some mistakes, give me a shout.





	1. The Beach and Some Sparklers

When Viktor suggested the trip to the beach, he had been expecting resistance from both Yuri and Yurio. For different reasons, obviously, but the same resistance nonetheless. Yurio is still in that resilient stage of life, simultaneously hating everything and yet trying to prove himself to the world. He’s caught between child and adult and is lashing at the world in his attempt at finding a place to fit in. Viktor is trying to help him find that place.

And Yuri… oh, Yuri.

Currently, his hands are in the pockets of that damn jacket, the one that fit when he returned home from Detroit but that now hangs loose. Though he must be wondering why Viktor brought them to the beach, Yuri says nothing. Yurio grumbles under his breath and plods away, towards the water.

Yuri doesn’t seem to notice Viktor staring, his brown eyes watching the birds, the waves, getting lost in the ever-grey sky.

Viktor bends and unclasps the leash from Makkachin’s collar and watches as she bounds after Yurio, barking and wagging her tail.

“Come, Yuri,” Viktor says, and holds out his hand for Yuri to take. Yuri blinks, looks at the offered hand, but doesn’t take it. He simply ducks his head with a blush and moves forward towards the sea.

Sighing softly, Viktor follows. So far, this is not what he had hoped. Yurio needs to find his inner Agape, whatever that means to him. Yuri needs to find an Eros. Neither skater is having any luck. Viktor is _trying_ to make them reflect upon themselves, to look deep, to relax and breathe and just _think_ , but both Yuris are making his life as a coach very difficult.

“Viktor,” Yuri says, and stops walking, and chills creep up Viktor’s arms and slide smoothly down his spine. He turns, and his eyes focus on Yuri’s, meeting that warm brown gaze head-on. “What are we doing here? I-I mean, how is this going to help at all?” Viktor wants to make the uncertainty in Yuri’s eyes disappear, but he can’t. Some problems… well, Yuri will just need to gain confidence in himself, and Viktor can only help so much with that.

“I find the beach to be very relaxing,” Viktor explains, shrugging his shoulders with a casual smile. On his left, he hears Makkachin’s continued barking and Yurio’s continued snarls. He hums in amusement. “How do you find the beach, Yuri?” he asks, both out of a wish to get Yuri talking in order to distract him, but also out of a need to sate his growing curiosity about what makes Yuri tick.

Here Yuri shrugs and returns to his slow walk towards the white waves lapping against the sand. Viktor thinks for a moment that he’s being dismissed, that Yuri is folding in on himself more and more with every gentle prod from Viktor, but then Yuri stops and looks back at Viktor, shyly, over a shoulder. “Walk with me?”

Viktor nods and moves in next to Yuri, close enough that their arms touch. Maybe too close, because Yuri sucks in a quiet breath and steps away. Viktor follows, but with space between their arms this time. He wants to comment on how dire Yuri seems, how his hesitation to talk makes the situation seem worse than it probably is. But Viktor knows by now that any further comment from him before Yuri has a chance to speak will just make the younger man completely hide away in his shell.

“I don’t usually go to the beach,” Yuri admits after a while, when they’re further away from Yurio and not all that substantially closer to the water. “I don’t like the water. Sand gets in my clothes, and it’s hard to walk on.” Something loosens in Yuri’s shoulders, makes him look younger. Viktor says nothing, and continues to wait. Yuri stops, looks at the waves, and moves directly towards them. Viktor, silently, follows.

“I actually feel nothing for the beach,” Yuri says when he has stopped less than a meter from the most daring of the waves. “I don’t feel more peaceful here. That’s just an illusion, you know? The sound of the waves, the gulls crying to each other, the cut off from the city noises… It’s not permanent.”

As Yuri speaks, Viktor watches him. His jaw flexes between sentences, chewing on his words, tasting them before he speaks. Yuri is opposite Viktor in that way. Viktor throws out promises, statements, truthful-if-sometimes-rude remarks, and doesn’t even think about it. Yuri says everything as if each word could explode if not handled carefully.

“I’ve always found my peace on the ice,” Yuri continues. He stares straight ahead, at the horizon. After a while, Viktor follows his gaze. “Especially when I knew I was alone. The sound of skates on the ice will always be more peaceful to me than the sound of waves. I like the cold, the freedom of movement. No one watches, no one cares. It’s just me… me and the ice.”

“Poetic,” Viktor says, simply because it comes to mind. “But the ice is temporary too, no? Eventually, you will have to leave it.”

“Like you?” Yuri asks, turning his head to focus on Viktor. “You still haven’t told me why you left, why you came here… why you stopped competing.”

Ah, yes, the hesitation, the self-doubt. Viktor knows that nothing he says will convince Yuri of anything, regardless of how honest he is. “Yuri,” he begins, but is cut off by Makkachin flying past them into the water, and Yurio chasing after her, only to stop at the edge of the surf.

Viktor raises his eyebrows at the young Russian, but Yurio simply glares back.

“This day trip is pointless,” Yurio says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leopard-print jacket. “How am I supposed to find my Agape on the beach?”

The question, Viktor thinks, is ironic. The beach is a soothing place, a romantic place, and it should, theoretically, be easier for Yurio to find Agape here than it would be for Yuri to find Eros. Yet it’s not working for either of them. A pity.

“Well, if relaxation won’t help, maybe exercise will.” So Viktor sends them running, first doing laps in the sand, and then easing them into the water, making them run through waves halfway to their knees. Makkachin chases them for a while, but when she gets tired, she lays down beside Viktor.

He has the younger skaters run until they look ready to collapse, and then he brings water bottles and towels from the car. Yuri spreads his towel over the sand before dropping onto it. Viktor watches as Yuri’s coat is peeled from his arms and tossed aside, watches the shifting muscles in Yuri’s arm as he lifts his water bottle to his lips. Yurio has already drained his water and shucked off his jacket by the time Viktor turns to him, and he glances at Viktor while he spreads out his towel and then lays back on it.

“All that did was make me tired,” Yurio complains. Viktor has known Yurio for quite a few years now, and he knows that the anger is frustration and not at all anything personal against Viktor himself. But he still finds it wearying.

“You will both find what you need, though perhaps not today.”

* * *

They stay at the beach for the remainder of the day. Yuri is tired and cold and just wants to go home. He wants to get away from the angry Russian and, honestly, he wants to get away from Viktor as well. Viktor’s winning smile and beautiful eyes and lingering gazes are getting to Yuri’s head, making him dizzy. He needs to take a moment to ground himself in reality.

But Viktor, apparently, has other ideas.

“It’s dark,” Yuri says, already halfway to the car.

“That’s true,” Viktor concedes with a smirk. Yurio glares at the both of them and waits. Makkachin is already in the car. “You’ve both been working very hard,” Viktor continues, moving to the back of the car and pulling a black duffle bag from within. “I thought I would treat you to something.”

Yuri narrows his eyes in suspicion, tracking Viktor’s trajectory back towards the beach. Yuri glances in Yurio’s direction, and for a moment their eyes meet, and something is shared between them. But then Yurio lets out a breath of disgust and turns to follow Viktor. Not willing to be left behind in the dark, Yuri follows as well.

In the short time it takes for Yuri to catch up, Viktor has already made a tipi out of logs and started a fire. Where Viktor got the wood from, Yuri doesn’t know, nor does he ask. His eyes are instead on the long sticks in Viktor’s right hand.

“Sparklers?” Yuri asks, looking in confusion from the small fireworks to Viktor’s face and then back again. “What-?”

Viktor says nothing, and instead simply hands Yuri and Yurio each a sparkler. Still hesitant, Yuri follows Viktor’s lead and dips the tip of the sparkler into the flames. Across from him, Yurio looks ready to bolt, treating the sparkler like a live bomb caught between his index finger and thumb.

In the space of a second, all three sparklers catch, sizzle, and start shooting colored sparks everywhere. Yurio and Yuri take off at the exact same time, in opposite directions, both afraid to have the sparks touch them and equally afraid to drop the stick. Viktor’s laugh gets drowned in the rush of the wind past Yuri’s ears. It takes a few moments for his heart to settle, to stop banging against his ribs, but when it does he turns and looks towards the two Russians.

Victor is spinning in circles, arm flung out, and the light is so bright that it burns arcs of red into Yuri’s eyes. Yurio grabs another stick from Viktor’s bag and lights it, fear long gone in the face of some fun.

Yuri waits until his first has burned out completely before he goes back, and, like Yurio, he grabs two. When they light, he starts running, but this time not in fear of the sparks, but in a desire to make something beautiful out of the burning light.

He loses himself. He closes his eyes and runs and leaps, and sometimes he turns around so fast he nearly loses his footing, but it’s worth it to see the patterns of light he’s making, to see the art his motions can create. His sparklers are almost burned out when he feels eyes on him, and he turns to se Viktor openly staring. Something soft and warm settles in Yuri’s chest, and he smiles across the space between them, and then he twirls around and puts his mind somewhere else.


	2. A Comb

The night after the Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship, Yuri can hardly stay on his feet. He wants to sleep, he wants something to eat, he desperately needs a shower. Viktor disregards all of that and pulls Yuri out to the hot spring, makes him strip, and tells him to soak. At this point, Yuri doesn’t even care if Viktor is watching him. He’s dead on his feet, but filled with a new kind of confidence.

He won. His victory, despite his failed jumps, still brings a small smile to his face. It’s an odd feeling, and he’s not sure how he would react if he was firing on all cylinders. He didn’t have time to so much as greet his family before Viktor was shepherding him out here. Yuri can’t say he really minds. Despite how much the Russian could get on his nerves, it was sometimes nice to have him as a barrier to his family.

Yuri sighs and slips down a little further into the steaming water. If there’s a disturbance a meter or so to his right, he doesn’t open his eyes to look. Viktor being in the water is no longer anything new or even frightening to Yuri, not after… well, not since Viktor told Yuri why he’s here.

“Did I make music today?” Yuri asks, peeking an eye open and turning his head the minimal amount to see Viktor seated next to him.

Viktor hums and studies Yuri, and then a small smile catches his lips and tugs up the corners. “It was a little rushed, but it was still beautiful.”

Yuri blushes, and he’s sure that it’s visible despite the natural flush to his skin from the heat of the water, because Viktor chuckles and moves a little closer. Yuri stiffens, but then relaxes. He’s too tired for an argument, and it’s been a long day for both of them. Viktor didn’t scold Yuri when he could have, easily. And Yuri, well… apparently, Yuri made music, and it was an exhausting climb to the top.

“Are you always this tired after competition?” Viktor asks, moving a little closer but then stopping and remaining where he is. “What happened to your stamina?”

Humming, Yuri slides further into the water, until only his face is exposed. He closes his eyes again, and his hearing becomes odd under the water. “Well, I did hit my head. Maybe that’s it.”

“Yes, maybe,” Viktor concedes. Yuri feels like Viktor wants to say more, but the conversation ends there, and it stays ended for quite some time. It’s not until Yuri is actively falling asleep that Viktor rests a hand on his shoulder and guides him into a sitting position. “Time for bed, little Katsudon.”

Of course, that’s not quite how it works. They dry off and wrap towels around themselves, and they pick up their clothes and head inside. By the time they’re both dressed in clean, dry clothes, Yuri is more awake, and he’s thinking about the upcoming Cup of China, and suddenly his stomach is full of knots and unwanted tension.

“Yuri.” Viktor’s voice is a soft exasperated sigh, and Yuri turns to him. He knows that his nerves are evident on his face, just like he knows that Viktor must be exhausted. But Viktor just smiles. “Come with me.” Yuri follows Viktor’s lead, and they silently make their way through the house. Eventually, Viktor stops, placing a chair in front of the fireplace and then setting some kindling aflame. “Sit.” The command is gentle, more like a suggestion, but all of Viktor’s commands sound like that. He knows how to get what he wants.

Yuri sits, his legs together, his hands on his thighs. Viktor steps forward and tips his chin up until their eyes meet. He says something in Russian, something that Yuri doesn’t understand, and then Viktor moves to stand behind Yuri, his fingers trailing first over his collarbone and then his shoulder.

“Viktor?”

“Watch the flames, Yuri. Watch them dance, and tell me what music you hear.”

Confused, Yuri looks into the small orange flames, which are slowly, slowly, devouring the oxygen in the room in order to grow. He watches them lick at the paper, turn it black, and then catch on the twigs and the larger logs.

Seemingly satisfied, Viktor’s fingers move over Yuri’s shoulders and up the back of his neck. Yuri shivers, his eyes closing for a moment at the shivers suddenly sliding across his skin. Viktor’s fingers slip into Yuri’s hair, and a few moments later comes the sensation of a comb passing along his scalp. His lips part in surprise, and his eyes open. The fire is larger now, greedily licking the two logs Viktor had placed in the grate.

“What do you hear, Yuri?” Viktor asks, voice a soothing rumble, Russian accent heavier than Yuri thinks he’s ever heard it.

Yuri’s eyes unfocus as he looks at the fire. He feels warm, safe, in a controlled environment. It doesn’t matter that the Cup of China is only a short time away. He’s not alone in this. Viktor, who has had the most successful skate career in recorded history, stopped skating to coach Yuri. Because Yuri could do what no one else could. Yuri could make music that Viktor could hear, hundreds of miles apart.

“A heartbeat,” Yuri says, which is true. Maybe it’s his, maybe it’s Viktor’s, maybe it’s nobody’s. He starts humming, following the tempo of that heartbeat. Viktor’s hands still, the comb caught halfway through Yuri’s hair, but Yuri doesn’t stop. He’s half asleep, probably off-tune, but he keeps humming, let’s the music go where it wants to.

“I will,” Viktor promises, and Yuri, brain sluggish, so close to drifting off, doesn’t understand. Did he say something? He’s still humming, isn’t he?

But the last thought that he has before falling asleep is that the music is familiar. He’s skated to it before.

_Stay Close to Me._

* * *

When Yuri wakes up, he’s on the floor, the fire is out, there’s a blanket over him and a pillow under his head, and Viktor is sleeping behind him.

For a second – no, that’s a lie. For several minutes, Yuri wrestles with the thought of leaving, of getting up and going to his room to sleep in his bed. But then Viktor shifts behind him, presses up against his back, and Yuri relaxes. He’s embarrassed to be in this situation, but there’s no one around to see them. If Yuri is being a little self-indulgent… who cares?

So he closes his eyes and curls up, and he smiles when Viktor huffs quietly behind him in his sleep. One night. One night of comfort before the Grand Prix Series really begins. Yuri thinks he has earned the right to that much.


	3. A Light Rail Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never been to Beijing and I have no idea if there are light rails there.

Beijing is still just as loud as Viktor remembers. Just as crowded, too. Not that he minds, really. People generally make him excited. He loves to please people, to shock them into loving him. With the energy of a crowd, of an audience, Viktor becomes energized as well. But Yuri, shy, sweet Yuri, doesn’t seem to share Viktor’s enthusiasm.

Last night, Viktor treated Yuri to a night on the town. They went out for food, perhaps Viktor had too much to drink… Yeah, alright, he had definitely had too much to drink. He winces a little now, thinking about the picture circulating on Phichit’s social media. And everyone else’s, apparently. Earlier this morning, Viktor had interrupted Chris flirting a little too heavily with Yuri. The Swiss skater has never been shy about his bisexuality, but Viktor still expects better from him.

“Yuri?” Tomorrow is the free skate competition, and though Viktor is confident enough in Yuri’s skill for the both of them, Yuri still needs to be able to relax in order to get to sleep. “Do you think you could sleep?”

Viktor isn’t surprised when Yuri shakes his head.

“Alright, let’s go out, then.” When Yuri’s eyes widen, Viktor chuckles. “Don’t worry, Katsudon, I won’t drink tonight.”

They don their jackets and their shoes, and Yuri, hard-pressed to stay fit now that he’s back at competing weight, shrugs his full backpack on as well. Viktor smiles and leads Yuri from the hotel they’re roomed in. This late, the city is quieter, but not by much. Cities never sleep, not really.

“Where are we going?” Yuri asks, hunching his shoulders and moving a step closer to Viktor. Today, Yuri is different. He’s more confident, or at least, he was during his short program. He’s certainly bolder, more forceful with his words. Viktor remembers the intensity in Yuri’s gaze mere moments before _Eros_ began. Yuri had asked that Viktor keep his eyes on Yuri, to not look away. Viktor had listened, and Yuri had been perfect, flawless, beautiful.

“Someplace to be alone,” Viktor responds, and he leads Yuri down a side street, and then through an alley nearly wide enough to be a street. The light rail station is ahead of them, and Viktor takes a seat on the empty waiting bench. Hesitantly, Yuri joins him.

“Is it far?” Yuri asks, looking down the line for the train. Viktor knows it’ll be another five minutes.

“We’ll take it to the end, and then take it all the way back. Should only be an hour or so from this stop.” Viktor leans back, looking up at the dark sky. No stars are visible from here. “You were perfect today,” he says, still staring up past the tops of the buildings. He wants to ask what inspired Yuri to perform so well, what had given him the change in attitude, but he knows that he needs to drop the conversation, steer them away from the topic of tomorrow’s competition.

But he had to say it. He had to compliment Yuri.

“T-thank you,” Yuri says, and then falls silent.

When the light rail pulls up, Viktor stands, and Yuri stands beside him. They wait patiently for the small train to stop, and, at this hour, only one person gets off. Viktor leads Yuri to the end, where they are the only occupants. Yuri sits down and, not willing to push his luck, Viktor sits across from him.

The train jerks into motion, and then settles out. “So,” Viktor says, watching Yuri carefully, enjoying the way the amber light and the shadows dance over his frame, “tell me something about yourself.”

Yuri takes off his backpack and holds it on his lap, arms wrapped around it. He rests his chin on top. “Something like what? You already know… probably more about me than anyone.”

“Except yourself.”

Yuri shrugs. “When I was little, when I first started skating, Yuko and I would copy your programs in order to get better.”

“You self-taught?” Viktor asks, impressed. He knew that Yuri was good, but he hadn’t thought him a natural.

“Yes and no. We were never very good until a coach got involved.”

“But you picked it up quickly,” Viktor says, wanting to keep Yuri talking. Anything to take his mind off of the free skate tomorrow.

Again, Yuri shrugs. “Minako taught me to dance long before I fell– before I found a passion for skating.” Viktor leans forward, intrigued by what Yuri had been about to say before he decided against it. But Viktor doesn’t get a chance to speak before Yuri beats him to it. “Why don’t you talk? I don’t know hardly anything about you.”

Viktor smiles, softly, and folds his hands together. His elbows rest lightly on his knees, and he stares across at Yuri, who meets his gaze straight-on. “Well, alright, then,” Viktor says. “I started skating young. My mother was a skater, not a very good one, but she loved it, and she wanted me to love it too.” Viktor maintains his smile, though it does take a bit of focus. “She sent me to live with Yakov, actually, while I was still quite young. Really, I’ve not known much else besides skating.”

Though Yuri’s arms are still wrapped around his bag, he lifts his head and blinks slowly at Viktor. “I had a poodle. Actually quite recently. His…” Yuri blushes, looks away for a moment, but returns his gaze to Viktor’s. “His name was Vicchan. Last year, not long before… well, he had to be put down. I was really broken up about it. That’s why I gained so much weight. I lost focus and confidence and, well, yeah.”

Viktor hums. “I’m sorry for your loss.” That answers quite a few questions that Viktor had about Yuri, actually, including why Yuri had put on so much weight so quickly at the end of last season.

Yuri shrugs, and though it’s obvious that he’s still broken up about the incident, he doesn’t dwell on it for long. “Tell me something else.” Though it comes out as a statement, it sounds much more like a question.

“Would you like to know anything specific?” Viktor smiles, trying to be inviting, wanting Yuri to feel comfortable voicing his thoughts.

“You keep asking me… if I’ve had a girlfriend.”

“We’ve established that you haven’t,” Viktor says in agreement.

“R-right,” Yuri says, losing momentum for a moment before plowing ahead. “Have you? Had any girlfriends, I mean.”

Viktor draws his eyebrows together, and then he stands up and crosses the train to sit next to Yuri. He leans back on the seat, legs out, hands folded over his stomach, and he stares at the ceiling. “No,” he says. “Well… yes and no, I guess.”

“What do you mean?” Yuri asks, and Viktor can hear him shift in his seat, clothes rustling against the smooth surface.

“Well,” Viktor says, and he closes his eyes. It’s not a difficult topic for him to talk about, but it feels… wrong. “I’ve had girlfriends,” he says slowly. “A few, actually. But… they never made me happy. They were never what I wanted.”

Yuri is silent for a while, perhaps waiting to see if Viktor will continue. When Viktor remains silent, Yuri asks, “What was it about them that didn’t appeal to you?”

“Their gender.”

Yuri sucks in a small breath, and Viktor opens an eye and looks over at him. There’s no disgust there, just a heavy blush and uncertain eyes. Viktor smiles, and he feels as unguarded as he ever has. “Don’t tell Yakov,” he whispers, tone conspiratorial. When Yuri doesn’t say anything in response, Viktor gets up and crosses back over to his original seat.

He starts talking about something else, not wanting Yuri’s mind to settle on anything for too long. In the quiet dark of the train, there’s a very intimate feeling in the air, and Viktor is careful with his words, not wanting to say anything to drive Yuri to focus too hard on tomorrow.

It isn’t until they are pulling up to their stop, when they’re both standing and getting ready to leave the light rail behind in exchange for a soft bed, when Yuri speaks up again.

“Viktor…”

“Yes, Yuri?”

“I don’t like girls either.”

Viktor smiles, and he reaches out to hold Yuri’s chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger. “I know. Thank you for telling me.”


End file.
